


Forget Me Not

by jdooly



Category: Block B, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alzheimer's Disease, Drabble, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 02:32:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2715695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdooly/pseuds/jdooly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jiho doesn’t have anything except words and a sharpie but he’s clinging to the life he left behind, just by the tips of his fingers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forget Me Not

**Author's Note:**

> This is honestly the first thing I've written in about 3 years. I honestly don't know how it went, but here it is? It'd be much appreciated if you leave comments. Constructive criticism is welcome. Thanks and enjoy!

Jiho sighs as he glances down at the finger printed surface of his watch. He’s late, his footsteps quicken towards the loaming warmth of shabby coffee shop. He buries his face deeper into the warm wool of his scarf. At this rate he’ll be lucky to get a lopsided table, let alone his cozy corner booth near the floor to ceiling windows in the far back of the Cherdak. Cherdak is simple. Simple secondhand mismatched tables and chairs, with even more mismatched cutlery and tea sets. It attached itself to Jiho’s heart, he finds comfort being surrounded in things just as mismatched as himself.

He pushes the door open, his arrival sounding with a twinkling ring, nodding his head to owner, whose eyes crinkle into a delighted smile. Even now he’s still happy and surprised to see Jiho, every Sunday, like clock-work. He heads towards the back, his phone burning a hole in his pocket. His fingers wrapped around the warm metal box, dragging it out of the depths of his pocket he settles into his corner and slides his thumb across the screen, answering the call.

“Learn to have some patience, Namjoon, the world isn’t going anywhere,” he drawls, his voice thick and weary but warm.

Namjoon just frowns, staring into the camera from his own end. “You’re late, what happened this time?” “You worry too much, live a little. It’s just cold Namjoon, that’s all.”

He lies, it’s always cold, but he’s always colder. Namjoon watches as his nostrils flare, even in the grainy pixels, he can still see the lie. He doesn’t say anything. It’s quiet for a moment as they stare at each other, then Namjoon is jumping into his endless days spent in his shared dorm room of what he and Yoongi are working on and how they think it should be a collaboration of the three of them. Jiho can just make out of the shape of Yoongi in the background hunched over a yellow pad, pen clicked and ready to spill ink across its’ pages.

He can also see the silhouette of Kim Seokjin, class valedictorian, stretched out across Namjoon’s bed. He’s napping, Jiho feels a smile tug at the corner of his lips.

Jiho remembers a time when he used to be just like that. Lying across Jihoon’s bed because somehow he couldn’t see his bed with all of his designer labels piled on top. (Jihoon would argue that he needs to donate some of that ~~junk~~ to some charity but Jiho will pretend he never heard him call his wardrobe ~~“junk~~ ”.)

He was eager to better himself and prove to everyone that he had everything it took to be what he wanted to be. Yet here he is, slowly withering away. Early onset Alzheimer’s, they said. “There’s nothing we can do, but you could better humanity if you allowed yourself to be monitored by a team of doctors for a study.” He’s been dealt a shitty hand, but he is still helping someone. He joined the cause. It takes him a minute to realize Namjoon has been calling his name for the past few minutes. He zones back in. “-ho, you alright bro? I’ve been calling for the last five minutes.” It’s longer than Jiho thought.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about something. How are classes going?” Namjoon gives him a look, “Are you sure you’re okay? To be honest you don’t look good and I know you lied to me earlier. Maybe you should come back to America. Kyung and Jihoon have been just bumming around without you here to keep them in line.”

Jiho thinks about it, about going back to the dorms with Jihoon and Kyung, writing lyrics with Yoongi and Namjoon, doing all that while steadily losing his memory. “…I don’t think that’s the best idea Namjoon. I have business left to do here.” He doesn’t mention how sometimes he forgets where here is. He writes it on the back of his hand, the address of the cafe, where he puts his keys, water the plants. He writes it all. He writes it all so he doesn’t lose what’s left of his short-term memory.

Namjoon sighs and boy does Jiho wish he could to, but that’d be giving in to the invisible weight on his shoulders. Reflexively Namjoon massages his fingers into the kink in his neck, lazily probing at it. There’s another moment of silence, awkward this time. Jiho hears the door slam open in the background, Yoongi is now glaring at the ever annoying presence of an excited Taehyung dragging a much less willing Jimin and an amused Jungkook along. Jiho would almost wonder where Hoseok was if it weren’t for the fluffy head that popped into the doorway a minute later, a shit-eating grin stretching across his face waving with his left hand while carrying a case of beer in his right hand.

Namjoon shifts in his chair, mumbling something about having to go before ending the call. Jiho would’ve called out to him and said goodbye except he’s already gone. He numbly slides his phone back into his pocket and glances down at the menu in front of him. He checks his left wrist for his usual order and calls out to the café owner, all the while glancing down at the name written in sloppy cursive right next to his order.

He lives by the words written on his wrist, just like those who live by words written in a book. He lives for words, because when you’re losing everything you’ve ever known, what else do you have?


End file.
